Win Lose or Strip?
by Ififall
Summary: Brett/Mason Fanfiction. Devenford lose for the first time in months. Mason arms himself with cookies and goes to check up on Brett...


From the time starter bell rings, they're all over each other.

Hands, clasped. Leaning into each other, whispering sweet nothings. Corey's running his hand through Mason's hair, almost patting him like a pet. It's making him sick. But before he can even think about throwing up, he's got to focus. Get the ball. His team are playing Ultra Uni, they are notorious for playing dirty. Before Brett realizes it, he's on the ground, dirt smearing his face.

He growls and pulls himself up, constantly chasing the ball, but with Mason's laughter in the background, he just can't concentrate. He looks up, past his discouraged team-mates. Mason's pointing, he can't see at what, Corey nudges him and puts his hand around Mason's waist, possessive and protective. He was so fake. Nothing but a wannabe, why couldn't the human see that?

* * *

 _"And your winners...Uni Ulta!"_ The Coach yells.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Devenford lost a game. In the changing room, There's a lot of shouting and blaming, but his team know better than to point the finger at him. Which works for him. Any teasing or raised voices or shoving would just make him glow with anger. He gets home, greets Satomi calmly. She offers him tea, he thanks her and takes it upstairs. He immediately strips out of his Lacrosse sports-wear, throwing his Jersey across the room, in a ball.

When did his bed sheets start stinking of sweat?

He pulls them off, kicking them across to the hamper.

* * *

What point was Mason trying to prove, that he was **over him?** That he didn't think about him anymore? That PDA performance couldn't have been real. They were too touchy, too smiliey, too tacile. Mason wasn't the type of guy that hugs guys so openly like that, but then again, people do change...

Before Brett knew it, there were claw marks in his new Bose Stereo. He withdrew them before he broke it, and focused on his bedroom wall, running his claws along the plaster, seeing the paint fly off in flakes, it calmed him. He'd been doing that ever since he was little. He really should have done a better job at controlling the game. He'd only been team captain for Five seconds, they'd lost horribly and to top it off, Mason was in the front row, watching everything...

He grabbed his lacrosse stick and threw it against the window.

* * *

It struck the pane with a crack, and he swore as he heard footsteps.

"Brett you have a visitor" Satomi said through the door.

"McCall I'm busy!" Brett yelled. Scott had been coming over, lately, with the usual Beacon hills crusader crap. Every detail, on preventing takeovers, wolfbane detectors and **nothing** on how Mason was, or what his grades were like, or his dating history...

The door opens a creak and the visitor smiles, then looks away.

* * *

"Hey, I'm sorry about the game man, I brought goodies..." Mason says.

"Oh!...Hi, Thanks but I don't deserve the cookies. I don't reward myself when I've lost" Brett tells him.

"But you've never lost before, so you can do whatever you want" Mason says opening the box.

* * *

They smell almost as good as Mason looks. He dressed in a flannel shirt, black quarter lengths and a green jacket. He's washed his hair recently. Brett can smell the shampoo. The Were in him, just want to pull him in and sniff him all over, but he gulps and controls himself. Hewitt is taken, after all.

He grabs a cookie. "Nice" He nods before biting it. "Help yourself"

"I sure will...Brett...do you wanna put some clothes on first?" Mason says sheepishly.

* * *

Brett begins to argue, until he looks down at himself,...

"When I get frustrated with a game, I just...strip naked. Unusual I know, but it's like a release. The pack tease me. They call it the "Talbot tradition"

"Intense! But today, could you pause this tradition? Please? How am I supposed to focus? Give you advice and, well...talk fluent English?" Mason asks.

* * *

Brett smilles before looking around for his Lacrosse jersey.


End file.
